Ma Cherie
by HermioneLunaPotter
Summary: A collection of Bill and Fleur one-shots. From post-Hogwarts to the Next Generation.
1. March 17 1998

March 17 1998

A slight breeze blew through the windows of Shell Cottage as Fleur Weasley opened the door to check on Hermione Granger. The girl was sleeping soundly, cocooned in blankets and her bushy hair spread out on the pillow behind her. Fleur smiled. At least in slumber she looked peaceful. But as Fleur drew closer, she knew that it was all a facade. Dark circles casted unpleasant shadows under her eyes, and her skin was pale and sickly, due to the terrible conditions she had faced. Harry and Ron had refused to tell her anything, but Fleur was not stupid. She knew the signs of the Cruciatus Curse when she saw them.

Fleur glided over to the window and pulled the curtains away to allow soft, golden light to illuminate the room. Sunlight lit up Hermione's face and she stirred and fluttered her eyes. Fleur rushed to the girl's side.

"Hermione? Comment ça va?" she crooned, gently patting Hermione's forehead.

Hermione groaned and opened her brown eyes, staring into Fleur's perfect sapphire ovals.

"Where does it hurt, ma cherie?" Fleur asked.

"Ron," Hermione rasped.

With a nod, Fleur left the bed and called out for Ron at the top of the stairs. He appeared so fast, it was as though Fleur had summoned him with a summoning charm.

"She is asking for you," she told him. Ron said nothing and disappeared into the bedroom. His face was downcast as he knelt beside the bed and held Hermione's hand.

As Fleur watched them from the landing, she felt Bill's arms wrap around her waist. His long, red hair brushed her chin as he bent to kiss her smooth cheeks.

"Is she alright?"

"I think so," said Fleur with a smile, looking up into her husband's face. He was still so very handsome to her, even with the scars. A small hand reached up and traced lightly over the scars on his face, making Bill close his eyes at her touch.

"She is in safe hands now," said Fleur.

"As am I," said Bill and he drew his wife's lips up to meet his own. Bill had realised long ago that he was envied by many men for being with Fleur. Her Veela ancestry had favourably enhanced her features and she was by far the most beautiful woman Bill had laid eyes on. But as he ran his fingers through Fleur's curtain of silvery hair, he understood just how beautiful she really was. Compared to her compassion, her bravery and her kindness, Fleur's beauty was nothing. He knew that he was the luckiest man in the world.

Their intimate moment was interrupted by a wail erupting from Mr Ollivander's room. Fleur broke away and gave Bill an apologetic smile.

"Do what you must, love," he told her, giving her tiny hand a squeeze. He watched her hurry away to the nearest bedroom with a smile. Underneath her French stubbornness was genuine Weasley kindness.

"Monsieur?" Fleur asked as she ran to Mr Ollivander's side and began putting a damp cloth over his brow. A sheen of perspiration glistened on his forehead as he thrashed about in his sleep.

"No, no! I don't know anything! Please! I beg of you!" he screamed, throwing his head back on the pillow and releasing a piercing cry.

"Shhh, Monsieur!" said Fleur in her soothing, throaty voice. "C'est un dream, only a dream! Shh!"

Mr Ollivander opened his pale, translucent eyes. "Dream... only a dream..." he muttered.

"Oui, Monsieur, only a dream!" Fleur assured him.

Nodding his head slowly, Mr Ollivander closed his eyes and relaxed, immediately falling asleep. Fleur sighed. If her maman had told her that she would be tending to injured Goblins and wandmakers in her first house, Fleur would have merely scoffed. Now, she realised, it was all she was going to do until Mr Ollivander and the Goblin were fit enough to continue their work. She removed the cloth and placed it on the bedside table, before smoothing her apron and making her way to her bedroom.

"Fleur!" called Harry.

"Oui?"

"Can I talk to the Goblin?"

Fleur glanced at the bedroom door doubtfully, a frown marring her angelic features.

"If you must," she said gravely. "But he is very weak."

Harry nodded and disappeared into the bedroom, followed by Ron and Hermione.

The bedroom Bill and Fleur shared was by far the grandest in the cottage. A magnificent view of the ocean was clearly visible from the large window. Bill was sitting on the bed, his hands bunched in the white duvet.

"What is it, ma cherie?" Fleur untied her apron and hung it on the door handle, before slipping out of her shoes and joining her husband.

"It's Ron!" Bill replied gruffly. "He shows up here with a dead house elf, an injured Goblin, a weak Mr Ollivander and a tortured Hermione, and doesn't tell me a bloody thing!"

"Shh," purred Fleur. A tiny white hand slipped into Bill's and another rubs his back gently. "Do not blame Ron. It is zis war zat is to blame!"

She took his face in her hands and traced his scars softly with her finger. "Wars can ruin faces, but zey can never ruin families. And your famille needs you to be strong, Guillaume!"

Bill smiled at the French equivalent of his name; his wife's nickname for him. He had often tried to pronounce it, but it sounded more beautiful when Fleur said it in her throaty, French accent.

"Do not be mad at your frère. He is doing what is best for his amis."

"Since where are the French so wise?" Bill joked.

Fleur smiled, "When zare husbands do not see sense!"

Bill captured her mouth with his and pulled her small frame closer to his. Memories of their wedding night came immediately to his mind. White sheets, silvery hair, pale skin, panted breaths. The fiasco at the Burrow had done little to halt their wedding.

Pushing Fleur backwards, Bill hovered over her and admired her tenderly. Her pale skin was slightly flushed with desire. Bill bent to kiss her again but she pulled back.  
"Non, Guillaume. Zare are too many people in zis house! Someone could hear us!"

"Let them!" he proclaimed with a twinkle in his eye. "Let them hear me make love to my beautiful wife!"

The last sound that could be heard before the concealment charms were in place was Fleur's tinkling laugh.


	2. April 6 1998

April 6 1998

"Look Harry, making agreements with Goblins is dangerous!"

"I know what I am doing Bill," said Harry and he retreated downstairs to join Ron and Hermione.

Bill glared at his descending figure. If Bill knew anything, he knew about Goblins. Working for them certainly gave one an insight into their makeup. Making a deal with a Goblin was risky. They were tricksters and always found a loophole in getting what they wanted. Harry might have saved the Goblin, but that did not guarantee that Griphook would give in so easily.

Bill sighed as Fleur called to him softly from the bedroom. He stormed into the room and slammed the door shut. His wife was sitting at the dresser, a letter in her hand and a brush in the other. A frown crossed her face and turned to him, her blue eyes swimming.

"What is it, love?" ask Bill, rushing to her side. She composed her features and gestured to the letter in her hand.

"It's from Gabrielle. She writes zat papa is very ill. He 'as caught a muggle disease called cancer, which our hôpital cannot cure. C'est très bizarre. But Gabrielle wants me to come and see papa before he passes."

Bill regarded his wife carefully as she told him of her father's illness. She refused to look at him and kept her beautiful head pointed to the floor, staring at the letter. Bill knew that she did not want him to think her weak.

The news of Monsieur Delcour's illness had a strange affect on Bill. He had only had the pleasure of meeting Fleur's family at the wedding, for they never had the money or the opportunity to travel to France. Although nowhere near as attractive as his half-Veela wife Apolline, Monsieur Delacour was a pleasant fellow who was stout in proportion with a short black beard. For such a jovial man to fall ill to an incurable disease was a terrible blow, and Bill was surprised at how brave Fleur was taking the news.

"Well then, when are you going?" he asked, wrapping his large hand around her dainty one.

"Don't be daft, Guillaume! How could you even suggest such a thing when zare is a war going on?"

"Because your father is ill, darling."

"Oui, papa est très malade," she said very softly, so softly that Bill lifted her chin to be able to hear her. "Mais, zeese things 'appen. I cannot leave you Guillaume. Not now. Not ever!"

"But love," said Bill, worried for Fleur's mental health. "Your father..."

'Non! Papa will die knowing zat his daughter was fighting to keep her family and ze rest of the wizarding world safe!" Fleur looked at Bill fiercely, her eyes blazing with tears and determination. She flipped her hair and stood straight with her shoulders back. At that moment, Bill thought she was the most beautiful creature in the world. "He will be proud to know zat I am not giving up! It will be what he wants! Gabrielle can go and comfort him for me with maman. But I? I will stay here with my husband and togezer, we will win zis war!"

Bill hugged her tightly and kissed her.

"That's my girl!" he beamed at her. "My beautiful, stubborn, French girl!"

"Je ne suis pas une fille, Guillaume. Je suis une femme!"

Laughing, Bill kissed her fiercely, pulling slightly on her lower lip. He loved it when she spoke French to him, even when he couldn't understand her.

"Love, you know I can't understand you when you speak French," he whispered in her ear.

"Exactement, ma cherie!"

They held each other's hands tightly and left the room.

Luna Lovegood rushed up to meet them.

"Fleur!" she said happily. "Daddy fixed the house and I am going to go back and live with him until I go back to Hogwarts! Dean is coming with me!" The girl was delighted, and continually jumped, pulling Dean Thomas by the hand. Her dirty-blonde hair bounced around her face. The boy looked less enthusiastic to be spending the rest of the holidays with the Lovegoods but he smiled along with Luna happily.

"Of course, ma cherie, zat is perfectly fine. You may stay as long as you wish!"

With an excited squeal, Luna pulled poor Dean outside to frolic in the sand.

Fleur laughed at them. She wished life was as simple as Luna made it out to be. How Fleur wished she was in France, braiding Gabrielle's hair and playing with dolls, like she did as a child. Times had changed; she was a married woman now, in the midst of a brutal war, and trying to protect her family. But Fleur knew that with her beloved Guillaume by her side, she would face this war head on and live to see her grandchildren grow.


	3. April 21 1998

April 21 1998

_The beach was a beautiful on that lovely spring day. Waves caressed the white sand with gentle fingers, humming softly as it splayed about three pairs of feet. The waves washed over the smallest of feet, earning a high pitched giggle from the tiny owner. Her little, white hands clapped together twice and reached out for the incoming wave. As the wave drew closer, however, she was swept upwards, into the arms of her mother. A cry escaped her pink little lips as she reached back for the wave. Tears formed in her light blue eyes. _

"_Hush, ma petite," crooned her mother, rocking the baby girl in her arms. She smoothed her daughter's honey blonde wisps of hair and kissed her forehead softly. _

_The girl looked at her mother incredulously, her tiny mouth forming a small 'O'. She made an impatient noise and her fair eyebrows merged together. _

"_You are too little to be in ze water, ma petite," her mother assured her. _

"_Only big people can go in the water!" said her father from the other side. He leaned down to kiss his young daughter and ran to the water. A blue shirt fell to the sand as he dived into the waves. His long red hair was plastered to his face and he grinned up at his family. The little girl giggled again and clapped her hands together. Fleur smiled at her family. It really was the perfect day. _

_But a storm was brewing in the east. Large dark shadows formed in the sky, swirling dangerously. Fleur called out to Bill, but over the noise of the thunder, she couldn't be heard. The shadows drew nearer and one broke away from the rest, heading straight towards Fleur. She hugged her baby girl to her chest and folded inwards, to protect her. The shadow drew closer and soon, Fleur realised that it was not a storm cloud. Desperately, she called out to Bill again but it was too the late. A flash of haunting green light erupted from the shadow and Bill fell to the waves, his body limp. Screaming, Fleur ran up the beach to her little cottage, hugging her daughter. The shadow was closing in and Fleur tripped as she was hit in the back with a spell. Her daughter flew from the protection of her arms, only to be saved by the shadow. Fleur looked up at the shadow and saw the menacing face of Bellatrix Lestrange. The little girl was cradled in the Death Eater's arms, and she stroked the baby's head softly with a pointed, black talon. _

"_My, my, my!" cooed Bellatrix, leering down at Fleur. "What a beautiful little girl you have here. Such a pretty little thing. So much like her mother..."_

"_Leave her alone!" cried Fleur, desperately trying to break free of the body-binding curse. _

"_What about her father, though?" Bellatrix continued, ignoring Fleur's pleas. "She should have some paternal features, don't you think?"_

"_Don't you touch her!" Fleur screamed. _

"_What do you think, Greyback?"_

_A hooded figure appeared beside Bellatrix, his sharp white teeth dripping saliva. Fleur thrashed about pathetically. _

"_Ma petite! Pas ma petite!"_

_Greyback licked his lips hungrily and reached for the baby with his yellow claws. _

"Non!" Fleur sat straight up in bed, her chest heaving with her pounding heart. The back of her neck was prickly with perspiration and when she ran a hand over her brow, it too was damp. Bill stirred beside her and reached for her hand.

"Are you alright, love?" he asked worried, patting her hand gently. His concern deepened when she looked at him. Wide, frightened eyes framed by locks of silvery hair that were stuck to her sweaty forehead. Her lower lips trembled faintly and he could visibly see her shaking. Instinctively, Bill sat up and pulled his distressed wife into his arms, stroking her hair and kissing her cheeks. Fleur did not respond to his affections. She was still in shock.

"What happened, Fleur?" he asked of her. She was silent for a long time, but Bill knew not to ask again. She would tell him in her own time.

"We cannot have a bébé," she said softly as she stared out of the window. The signs of dawn crept over the white sand on the beach, illuminating a few stray seagulls mingling in the early hours of the morning. "Not now. Guillaume, we cannot have a bébé."

"Why not?" Bill was confused. They were married. The only natural course after marriage was to have children; to raise a family. Merlin knew he wanted nothing more than to raise a family with the beautiful woman beside him.

"C'est dangereux. I cannot bring a bébé into ze world while zare is zis war! I will not do it!" Fleur shook her silvery head; Bill noticed tears dripping off the end of her perfect nose. "Ma petite!" she wailed and drew up her legs to wrap her arms around them. "Pas ma petite!" she was brokenly sobbing into her hands and Bill wrapped his arms around his wife, trying to protect her from her inner demons.

"Shh, it's okay love. I'm here, I'm here," he said in his low, soothing voice, rocking her like he did his baby sister when she was having a nightmare. Fleur threw her arms helplessly around Bill and cried into his neck.

"Je t'aime," she muttered softly. "Ne me laisse jamais. Je t'aime encore…"

"I love you too, honey. I won't let anything hurt you. I promise."


	4. May 2 1998

May 2 1998

Silence seemed to extend for hours. Time itself had frozen in that one moment of victory. Nobody moved, even dared to breathe. Some were blinking their eyes rapidly; unsure whether it all was a dream or if they had, in fact, eradicated the most evil man from the face of the earth. Then, after a few moments of stillness, the world breathed a sigh of relief. It was over. The Dark Lord had been defeated.

Crowds of people began to descend towards Harry Potter to offer him congratulations and praise his bravery. The boy had certainly acted beyond his years and had proved himself far bolder than any of the congratulators. But instead of joining the growing masses to suffocate Harry with praise, Fleur's eyes scanned for a glimpse of long, red hair. Praising Harry could wait until she found her husband. She had to be certain that he was alive. Making headway into the castle, Fleur frantically searched for Bill. He couldn't be dead. Not her Guillaume. She saw a great deal of red hair in the midst of the survivors, but none belonged to Bill. It wasn't until she had reached the end of the cheering crowd that she spotted him. Relief coursed through her. He was alive. Practically beaming from ear to ear, Fleur raced towards her husband and threw herself at him.

"Guillaume!" she cried and she flung her arms around his neck. He braced himself from the impact of her hug and held her tightly. His hands stroked her hair as she sobbed into his shoulder.

"Oh, Fleur," he whispered in her ear, pulling her mouth to his. Their tears mixed together from the closeness of their embrace. It was not until they broke away that Fleur realised he was crying; and not from happiness.

"Qu'est-ce que c'est, ma cherie?" she asked, trailing her fingers lovingly along his cheek. Bill almost smiled. As terrible as his French was, he had heard his wife ask him this simple question many times and had come to understand its meaning. But the sorrow that was filling him stopped him speaking coherently. Fleur watched, heartbroken, as Bill opened and closed his mouth but remained silent.

A wail from Mrs Weasley caused Fleur to break away from Bill and rush to her mother-in-law's side. She was kneeling over the body of one of the twins, tears dripping off the end of her nose and onto the boy's sweater. Fleur looked between Bill and Mrs Weasley. So this was why Bill had been crying. She instantly felt guilty and her heart filled with grief. Before, she had been so happy that she and Bill had survived, but Bill didn't share in her happiness. His brother had been killed.

"Oh, Freddie," cried Mrs Weasley, hugging her dead son's body and sobbing into his chest. Mr Weasley knelt beside his distraught wife, and put a supportive arm around her. Fleur didn't know what to do, so she patted Mrs Weasley's back gently and murmured soothing words to her in French. Her low, throaty accent always seemed to soothe Bill when he was feeling anxious, particularly when thinking about Ron. Mrs Weasley gave Fleur a watery smile which she returned. It was the least she could do to support her family.

George sat on the other side of Fred, with a teary-eyed Angelina Johnson. He looked as pale as a ghost, his lower lip trembling and his eyes fixed on his twin's face. Ron came in soon after; Hermione gripped his hand tightly. His face was grim as he regarded the body of his brother, but there was no doubting the happiness in his eyes. He was relieved that it was finally over. After seven years of chaos and danger, it was finally over for him, Harry and Hermione. Fleur gave him a comforting smile as he took his place beside George.

"Mrs Weasley?" Madam Pomfrey said softly, approaching the mourning family. "We need to move Fred's body so we can tend to other patients on this cot."

Mrs Weasley almost glared at the matron, clinging to her son's body desperately.

"No!" she screamed. "You will not take me away from Fred. I will not leave my son! Not my Freddie!"

"Molly," whispered Mr Weasley. "We will see Fred later. But there are other injured people who need to be tended!"

Molly whimpered and collapsed into her husband's arms.

"Come on, dear," he said, lifting her into a standing position. "We can see Freddie later."

Fleur rose from her kneel and went to Bill's side. He rubbed her shoulder as Madam Pomfrey and Professor Slughorn came in and lifted Fred's body off the cot and carried him out of the Great Hall. A young girl was placed on his cot, her body limp and her eyes fluttering madly underneath her eyelids. Blood covered her body and there were large, Acromantular bites on her arms and legs. Bill turned Fleur away from the horrific sight and they ventured out into the grounds.

She tightened her grip around him; burrowing her head into his shoulder. For now, it was all she could do.


	5. May 3 1998

May 3 1998

Fleur stirred and opened her eyes. Bill's face was inches from hers; she could feel his hot breath on her face. His arms were around her, pulling her into his chest. Fleur smiled. It had been a while since she had seen Bill this relaxed while he slept. It was the first time since the war that Fleur had been able to wake up without fear of being hunted by Death Eaters. She reached up and cupped Bill's cheek. His eyes fluttered slightly but he didn't wake. Feeling confident, Fleur leaned in and pressed her lips to his neck. His pulse was steady with his breathing. Fleur travelled up his neck, along his jaw line and made her way to his slightly parted lips. The intimate contact roused Bill and he instinctively wrapped his arms around his wife tighter.

"Good morning," he mumbled through kisses, running his fingers through her long, blonde hair.

Fleur giggled and fisted her hands in Bill's hair. She wrapped her legs around him. It had been too long since they had been intimate with each other. The night before, Bill had been too depressed about Fred's passing.

"How are you feeling, Guillaume?" she asked as they pulled away.

Bill's twinkling eyes faded as he thought about the loss of his younger brother. He looked away, hiding his grief from her.

"It's okay, ma cherie," Fleur said, turning his chin back to her and kissing him fiercely. Bill hugged her tighter.

"I just feel so... confused. I don't know what to think."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I feel terrible that Fred is gone but I..." he broke off and stroked some of Fleur's hair behind her ear.

"But what?"

"I'm just so glad that you're alive."

"Me too," said Fleur, going in for another kiss.

"No," Bill pulled away and sat up, putting his head in his hands. "I can't feel happy! How can I be happy when Fred is gone?"

"Zat is ze 'ole point of life, Guillaume. Fred will not be mad at you for being happy zat you are alive. Mourn for Fred's death, oui, but do not feel guilty zat you are alive. Zare are many people 'oo didn't make it."

Fleur wrapped her arms around Bill and massaged his shoulders gently, occasionally placing kisses along his back. He leaned his head back into her chest and closed his eyes. The tiny hands continued to comfort him by easing the tension out of his shoulders that he didn't realise he was holding. Only then did he notice how much his body ached. The battle yesterday had taken a large toll on his body, and he wasn't surprised that his arms and back were covered in bruises. Every time Fleur came across one, she let out a tiny gasp.

"You are covered in bruises," she said, amazed. She gently traced a finger around one. Bill winced.

"Oh, désole, ma cherie."

"That's okay," said Bill, laughing a little.

"Non, it is not okay," she cried, reaching for her wand. "Zey are really bad!"

Bill turned around and gripped his wife's slender waist as she searched on the floor for her wand.

"Relax Fleur," he laughed, "It's not that bad."

He pulled his tiny wife into his arms and kissed her.

"Bill," she said firmly, frowning at him. She only used his real name when she was cross at him. "I have to heal your bruises. Zey must hurt terribly. Stop being silly."

"You can do that later," he winked at her, making her pale skin blush. "There are other more, pressing matters, we must attend to."

"Like what?" said Fleur, pouting at him.

"You know how you said that you didn't want to try for a baby until the war was over?"

Fleur eyed him suspiciously.

"Well, the war is over. Want to start trying?"

She slapped his arm and tried to frown at him. But her blue eyes were twinkling.

"You're unbelievable!" she scolded, grinning up at him and allowing him to kiss her.

"I take that as a yes!"

Fleur's silk nightgown fell to the floor.

* * *

**A/N: So when Fleur decides not to have a child during the war, Teddy Remus Lupin had just been born. But after the war is over, Bill desperately wants to start a family and Fleur does too. But I don't think that they "celebrated" the end of the war immediately. I think that Bill would have been to distraught about Fred's death to want to do anything intimate. He feels conflicted, because Fleur is alive but Fred is dead and that troubles him. But eventually, he understands that these things happen and the best way to mourn is to remember the best things in Fred's life- not to feel guilty. Hope you enjoyed. Reviews are welcomed warmly! xx**


	6. May 12 1998

**For any of you who have checked out my timeline on my profile, you will see that May 12 1998 is the date of Fred's funeral. I hadn't written any mention of this scene in my New Beginnings as that starts a few months after this. However, I haven't actually written the funeral. I was too upset to even think about attempting George's funeral speech. So I am sorry to disappoint. This is just before the funeral with a little Fleur/Ginny! Enjoy xx :)**

* * *

May 12 1998

An icy chill swept across England, unusually early for spring. It was as though Mother Nature herself was mourning for the death of Fred Weasley, as the rest of his family were doing as they sat around Mrs Weasley's sitting room. Silence echoed throughout the Burrow; even the ghoul was silent up in the attic. All around, solemn heads faced the ground, with little movement among the occupants. Percy stood next to the window and stared vaguely out into the garden, occasionally wiping away a stubborn tear under his horn-rimmed spectacles. A dainty young woman stood beside him, her cropped dark hair just touching her shoulders as she clutched his arm for support. Bill was pacing back and forth with his hands behind his back, unaware of Fleur's blue eyes following his movements with concern. On the couch sat Ron, resting his head on Hermione's bushy hair; Ginny, gazing at her hands intertwined with Harry's while he mumbled sweet nothings to her and George sitting at the base, his bottom lip trembling and his knees drawn up. Sitting next to him with her hand on his knee was Angelina. Over by the fireplace, Mrs Weasley was wrapped around her husband, hiding her sobs in his chest. It was a dismal sight.

Uncertainty mingled with the sorrow that filled the air, as none of the Weasleys knew what to say. Fred's funeral was to be in an hour, with only the immediate family attending and some of Fred's close friends. Lee Jordan was to attend too, but he would meet the Weasley's at the funeral. For a few more minutes, the silence dominated, until Hermione spoke up.

"I think the vicar is here."

Sure enough, a man in a black suit with a high collar was approaching the Burrow. He was from the village: Mrs Weasley had hired a Muggle for the occasion. The family rose from their positions and composed their features. Fleur kept close to Bill as the Weasley's went out to meet the vicar. He was a portly man with greying hair and a prickly moustache. He dipped his hat to Mrs Weasley as he approached, in a manner of respect.

"Mrs Weasley," he said as he held out his hand politely. She took his hand in hers and Fleur could visibly see her hand shaking.

"What a family you have," he marvelled, a ghost of a smile upon his lips as he observed the family. When nobody said anything, the vicar addressed Mr Weasley.

"Where is the ceremony to be held?"

Mr Weasley nodded and led the vicar around to where the funeral had been arranged. Fleur, Hermione and Audrey Singleton; the young woman with Percy; had arranged everything. The three witches had done a beautiful job for such a grim occasion: there were several long benches on either side of an aisle and at the front was an altar of dark mahogany, laden with an ornate wooden cross, a Bible and several candles yet to be lit.

"Marvellous," admired the vicar and the family left him to prepare for the funeral. Some of the family weren't dressed yet. Ginny was still in her pajamas.

"Gin, you need to get dressed," said Harry gently, giving her a weak smile.

She nodded her head slowly, causing her long red hair to fall in front of her face.

"I will 'elp," Fleur offered and took Ginny up to her bedroom. For once, Ginny obliged- something strange considering her previous behaviour to Fleur. Loss seemed to bring people together, no matter how different.

A strapless black dress lay on her bed, the price tag still attached as though Ginny hadn't even bothered to look at it since she had bought it.

"La robe est très belle," Fleur remarked as she held up the dress to Ginny's curvy frame.

Ginny smiled weakly. She stripped out of her pajamas and allowed Fleur to slide the dress over her body and fasten the zip at the back.

"Bootiful!" said Fleur, kissing the side of Ginny's head affectionately.

"I can't do this," Ginny murmured softly, sitting on her bed with her head in her hands. "I just can't Fleur!"

Pity filled Fleur's heart as she sat beside the weeping girl, whose eyes were red and puffy from crying.

"Yes you can, ma cherie," Fleur encouraged, rubbing her sister-in-law's back.

"No, you don't understand," Ginny sounded so uncharacteristically defeated. "I can't go down there. If I go down there, I know I will burst into tears and I can't let my brothers see that. I can't let Harry see me cry!"

Fleur was silent for a moment, content with listening to the sounds of Ginny weeping in embarrassment. She didn't know what to say. Ginny was a brave girl. Fleur had seen how she responded during the war, even when horrible things were happening to her and her friends. She had a courage and strength that reminded Fleur of herself- particularly during the Triwizard Tournament. But Fleur also understood Ginny's embarrassment at looking weak. Fleur had felt the same when she had been unable to continue the Second Task due to an incident with the Grindylows. She had been terribly embarrassed about how she would appear, as she was the only female in the Tournament. Likewise, Ginny was the only girl in her family and that put an immense amount of pressure on her to act a certain way: to act like her older brothers. But in times like this, no-one would blame her for removing her confident mask.

"Ginny," Fleur began after a while, unable to phrase her thoughts properly. "Everyone; your family, your friends; zey admire your bravery. You always look so strong, through everzing you 'ave been through. But, sometimes, it iz okay to show your feelings. It iz okay to wear your 'eart on your sleeve in times like zis. No-one will zink you are weak!"

Ginny looked up through watery eyes and almost scowled.

"You don't have any brothers!" she cried. "You don't know what it's like!"

"Per'aps," Fleur replied calmly. "But I 'ave been in ze Triwizard Tournament and I know what it iz like to 'ide behind a mazk."

When Ginny was silent, Fleur continued.

"In ze Tournament, I was ze only girl. Ze rest were boys and most of zem were older zan me; except 'Arry of course. People thought zat because I was bootiful zat I was weak and silly and pathetic. But Madam Maxime told me zat I 'ad to prove zem wrong! I 'ad to show zem zat even zo I was a girl, zat I was just as brave as ze rest of zem! And so I did. I put up a wall, wore a mazk and showed ze world zat I was Fleur Delacour: Triwizard Champion, not just a pretty French girl. But do you know what I did every night in my room during zat Tournament?"

Ginny shook her head.

"I cried. I cried because I 'ated being somebody zat I'm not. I 'ated 'aving to pretend zat I wasn't scared and I wasn't afraid. I was terribly afraid Ginny! I almost went insane! But I never opened up to anyone, nobody knew. And I 'ad to struggle through my own nightmares... alone."

"Why are you telling me this?" asked Ginny.

"Because, I don't want you to feel zat way. It is ze worst feeling in ze world; as zo ze 'ole world iz on your shoulders and you 'ave to bear it alone. But I don't want zis for you. I am trying to 'elp you, Ginny. Zat is what sisters do."

Without warning, Ginny threw her arms around Fleur's tiny waist and sobbed into her neck.

"It iz okay, ma cherie. It iz okay," Fleur whispered soothingly, patting Ginny's back.

"Thank you," said Ginny when they pulled back, giving Fleur a smile. She wiped her eyes. "I think I can face this now."

Fleur cupped Ginny's cheek softly. "You will not 'ave to face zis alone."

The two women headed downstairs to the funeral, arm in arm, prepared to face what grief was yet to come.

* * *

**I envisioned this scene as the beginning of Fleur and Ginny's relationship. Previously, JKR had made Ginny fairly hostile to Fleur (particularly in the Half Blood Prince) and even after she was still fairly distant from Fleur. I, however, expected them to mend that bond eventually as they are sister-in-laws and this scene just did it for me. By the way. Fred's funeral. Everyone cried. Including me. The end. Reviews are kindly appreciated! xx**


	7. June 3 1998

**Just a warning for all those English speakers out there. I like to make my stories as authentic as possible and in this one, Fleur speaks a lot of French. I haven't put any translations in so if you want to find out what they're saying, Google Translate is always an option. I did this because I want the reader to feel Bill's confusion at seeing Fleur and Gabrielle communicate in French to each other! Enjoy :) xx**

* * *

June 3 1998

The crisp summer morning rays pierced through the lattice windows overlooking the beach as Fleur washed her dishes from the night before by hand. Most would think that Fleur was too _precious_ to do such common household chores; particularly without magic; but truth be told, Fleur rather enjoyed it. There was no other way to rid one's mind of grief and anxiety than by cleaning the Muggle way; it kept her mind active and cleansed her mind of any negative and prominent thoughts that bothered her while she slept. Bill was still asleep upstairs; his snoring could be heard from the kitchen; and so Fleur took pleasure in these few moments alone. It gave her serenity.

Today, Gabrielle was coming to visit. It was the only time Fleur could see her sister before she went back to Beauxbatons. She was twelve now and Fleur felt slightly sad that she had missed her little sister's birthday in April. But luckily, Gabrielle had offered to stay with her sister for one week before returning to France. Fleur was elated. The last time she had seen Gabrielle was at her wedding last summer. But light conversation had been scarce due to the high tensions during the war. So, Fleur and Gabrielle had only communicated through the odd letter or two.

Fleur continued to hum contently as she dried the last of the plates. A pair of arms encircled her waist and pulled her back into a hard chest. Fleur smiled.

"What are you doing up this early?" he asked, nipping her ear affectionately.

"Cleaning up _your_ mess," she laughed silkily, turning to wrap her arms around his neck and kiss him.

"Hey," he chuckled defensively. "I was tired last night."

"And my sister is coming soon. Did you not zink of zat?" She put her hands on her hips in an imitation of her mother-in-law.

"Love, there's only one thing I think about when I get home," he winked at her.

"You pig!" she feigned disgust but let him kiss her anyway. She could never be angry at Bill for too long. He always had some way to charm her or distract her. And he knew her too well to know that she would give in.

"Non," Fleur pulled away when he began to deepen her kiss. "We don't 'ave time! I 'ave to make up the bed for Gabrielle."

Bill slunk an arm around her middle as she began to walk away. "Gabrielle can wait for a few… hours," he grinned cheekily at her.

"Guillaume!" Fleur scolded playfully. "I'm beginning to zink you 'ave developed an obsession with me!"

"Maybe I have!" he brushed his lips to her wrist.

"Bill… Gabrielle!" she groaned. He let go of her wrist and watched her fondly as she walked upstairs to set up the guest bedroom.

Fleur couldn't help but blush as she made up the guest bed for Gabrielle to sleep in. Her Guillaume was very cheeky but she loved it. She just hoped that he wouldn't be so flirtatious when her baby sister was staying. It was not something she wanted Gabrielle to see… or hear. Once she was satisfied, she stood back to admire it. The bed spread was simple and white, with a swirling flower pattern in blue. It looked simple and elegant; something that pleased Fleur. This would be her first, _official_, house-guest and as it was her beloved sister, she wanted to make it absolutely parfait!

"Guillaume!" Fleur called as she glided downstairs. "We 'ave to go and get Gabrielle!"

Gabrielle was travelling by Portkey to the village of Tinworth and Bill and Fleur were to collect her there. As Gabrielle was only twelve and Apolline was determined to stay with her ill husband, Gabrielle's means of safe transportation were confined to Portkeys or Muggle transport. She had chosen a Portkey.

"I'm here, love," said Bill, appearing from the kitchen and linking arms with his wife as they stepped out of the house and disapparated.

Tinworth was similar to Ottery St Catchpole in its simpleness; however it was a fishing district. The smell of fish from all the surrounding fish markets made Fleur scrunch up her nose in disgust.

"Why do ze feesh 'ave to smell so bad!" she moaned to Bill as they made their way past a bait and tackle stall. The owner winked at Fleur, earning him a scowl from Bill as he and his wife walked up the hill to where the Portkey was meant to land. The hill was enclosed by a circle on trees, strategically placed for witches and wizards who lived in the area to use Portkeys without Muggle notice.

"Fleur!" cried a small voice from the clearing of the trees. A young girl ran towards her sister, long blonde hair trailing out behind her.

"Gabrielle! Vien ici!" cried Fleur, pulling her little sister into a crushing hug. Bill stood back to admire the reunion of the two sisters. They were so very much alike, even if they were far apart in their years. Both were tall, slender and pale with silvery blonde hair and deep blue eyes. And of course, their Veela ancestry enhanced their appearance favourably.

"Oh Fleur! Je t'ai manqué!" Gabrielle cried as she pulled back from her sister's embrace and kissed both of her tear-stained cheeks.

"Je sais! Moi aussi, ma petite!" sobbed Fleur, brushing away Gabrielle's hair and cupping her cheeks.

"It's good to see you again, Gabrielle," said Bill, holding out his hand to his little sister-in-law.

When Gabrielle exclaimed; "Pardon?" and gave Bill a confused look, Fleur paraphrased.

"Direz 'Salut' a Guillaume!" she told Gabrielle.

"Salut!' said Gabrielle sweetly, grinning affectionately at Bill.

"Non," cried Fleur. "En anglais sil te plait!"

"Hello," she said softly, her accent even stronger than Fleur's.

"How have you're holidays been?" Bill asked her.

Gabrielle frowned and shook her head in frustration. "Je ne comprends pas!"

Fleur sighed and kissed her Gabrielle's head. "C'est d'accord, ma petite."

"What's wrong?" asked Bill, completely confused to the content of the conversation as he didn't speak French himself.

"Gabrielle cannot speak Eenglish very well. Zey do not learn it at Beauxbatons. You will 'ave to be very patient with her."

"That's fine," smiled Bill and he took his wife's slender hand. "As long as you can translate."

"Gabrielle," Fleur called to her sister and gripped her hand tightly. "Vas-y! Nous allons a la maison!"

The three of them disapparated.

* * *

**So what did you think? ****I really wanted to include Gabrielle in this fanfic because I feel that she wasn't developed at all as a character (no offense meant to JKR- because she had much more important characters to develop). So I decided that Gabrielle comes to visit Fleur for a week before she goes back to Beaubatons. Reviews are solemnly appreciated! xx**


	8. June 13 1998

**Thank you to all my lovely reviewers, followers and favourite-ers (if that is a word... if not, I just made it up :P ) It is sooooo great to have so much support for my stories. This might be the last update in a while because I am pretty busy with my studies and exams and stuff- don't you love grade 12? :/ So please enjoy this while you can. But don't worry! I'm not abandonning you... I promise :) xx**

* * *

June 13 1998

"Fleur! Je vais prendre un douche!" called Gabrielle, heading into the bathroom with a fluffy towel and her toiletries.

"D'accord!" said Fleur as she slipped a floaty, blue summer dress around her slender frame.

"Did she just call you a douche?" asked Bill, peeking his head out of the ensuite bathroom. Fleur rolled her eyes at him.

"Non, douche is 'shower' in French, Guillaume," she said, unable to keep herself from looking teasingly at her husband. He had obviously washed his hair, for it was damp and stuck up at odd angles.

"That's a strange name for a shower," Bill remarked as he shook his head and sprayed water all over the walls.

Fleur sighed and cleaned the walls with her wand. "Don't do zat, Bill. You are not a dog!"

Bill merely chuckled and made his way over to the dresser in nothing but his towel.

"If you are looking for your jeans, zey are hanging up downstairs. I washed zem last night," said Fleur helpfully after watching Bill rummage through his drawers for clothes.

"Thanks, love," he said, leaning over to kiss her head before dashing downstairs.

"Don't let Gabrielle see you in your towel!" Fleur called out to him.

"Yes, dear!"

Fleur sighed. Mrs Weasley had invited Fleur, Bill and Gabrielle over for lunch at the Burrow. It was meant to be a distraction after Fred's funeral but Fleur didn't want to go. It wasn't that Fleur wasn't comfortable around her in-laws, but she knew it would be uncomfortable with Gabrielle there. She didn't speak English well at all and Fleur knew she would constantly have to translate; which would be annoying and awkward.

Bill appeared at the top of the stairs with his jeans and a huge grin.

"Why are you so 'appy?" asked Fleur, eying her husband suspiciously.

"Nothing. Just gave your little sister a fright!" he chuckled as he dropped his towel and yanked on his jeans.

"Bill!" cried Fleur sternly. "Why did you do zat? What did you do to her?"

"Nothing harmful, love," Bill reassured her. "I just came up behind her when she wasn't aware and frightened the knickers off of her."

Fleur frowned at her husband. He just grinned goofily as she shook her head. Bill could be very immature; sometimes it was endearing. But at the moment, it was irritating.

"Don't do zat again, okay," she told him, rising from the dresser to go and find her sister. "She iz only twelve."

Gabrielle was sitting on the guest bed in her yellow dress, brushing her silvery blonde hair into stylish waves.

"Knock, knock," said Fleur as she approached, not wanting to catch her sister off guard after being harassed by Bill.

"Qui est-ce?" asked Gabrielle quietly.

"Fleur."

"Ah, oui. Entrer,"

Fleur sat down next to her sister. "Tu bien?"

"Comme ci comme ca," said Gabrielle sadly. "Mes parents ma manquent."

"Moi aussi. Peux-tu parler en anglais pour moi ?"

"Yes. I don't like." Gabrielle hung her beautiful head, ashamed of her poor English skills.

"It's okay, ma petite," said Fleur reassuringly.

"Non!" cried Gabrielle, gazing imploringly at her sister. "Zey make fun!"

"No one will make fun of your Eenglish, Gabrielle. Zey know zat you don't speak it very well."

"Exactement! I speak bad!"

"Shh," Fleur cradled her younger sister in her arms and brushed her lips against her head. She understood exactly what Gabrielle was feeling. Being a native French speaker and knowing very little of the English language, Gabrielle felt very uncomfortable being around fluent English speakers. She was embarrassed, something Fleur could relate to.

"Zey will understand. Don't fret. Now, do you want me to plait your 'air?"

Gabrielle nodded and allowed Fleur to weave her fingers through the luscious, blonde locks. Fleur used to do this when they were young girls. Gabrielle had always had beautiful hair and Fleur loved playing with it. She felt so proud whenever she had created a complex design in Gabrielle's hair and was praised by her mother endlessly.

After ten minutes, Gabrielle's hair had been transformed into an elegant fishtail sweeping down her back.

"Voila!" exclaimed Fleur, proud of her work. "J'ai finis!"

"Merci!" cried Gabrielle and she kissed Fleur's cheeks before rushing to the standing mirror in her bedroom. "Ah, c'est très belle! Merci beaucoup!" Gabrielle twirled in a circle to examine her sister's handiwork.

Fleur laughed. "It iz okay. We are leaving soon, Gabrielle so make sure you are ready. And please try to speak Eenglish while at ze Weasley's.

"Yes," said Gabrielle and Fleur left her sister to admire herself.

xXx

The last time Fleur had been at the Burrow, it was a grim occasion. Now, however, Mrs Weasley seemed to find every excuse to be joyous; probably to keep from going mad with grief for Fred.

"Sera-il 'Arry?" Gabrielle whispered to Fleur as they walked past the pigs towards to Burrow.

"Oui," said Fleur, giggling softly as she watched Gabrielle's face light up with glee. Ever since he had saved her from the bottom of the Black Lake, Gabrielle had developed a sort of crush on Harry; a crush that certainly hadn't dwindled over time given her behaviour at the wedding.

As the three of them neared the Burrow, Fleur spotted Ron, George, Harry and Ginny playing Quidditch in the garden, while Hermione sat under a tree with her nose in a book.

"Oh, you made it!" cried Mrs Weasley happily, running out of the kitchen in her apron and embracing her son and daughter-in-law. "And Gabrielle too! My, my," she exclaimed fondly. "You certainly have grown."

Gabrielle beamed up at Mrs Weasley, totally oblivious to what she said if not for Fleur hushing translations in her ear.

"Th-thank you," Gabrielle muttered weakly, glancing at Fleur for approval. Fleur gave her an encouraging smile.

"Good to see you again, dear," said Mrs Weasley, kissing Fleur's cheeks. "Come on inside, Audrey is helping me with the salad." Fleur obliged.

"Puis-je les joindre?" asked Gabrielle, tugging on Fleur's arm and pointing over to the boys and Ginny.

"Oui," said Fleur. "Mais, faire attention, Gabrielle!" Fleur called after her sister as she skipped over to Hermione.

"I'll go with her," said Bill, giving Fleur a peck on the cheek. "I want to watch Ron get destroyed by Ginny!"

Audrey was in the kitchen chopping some tomatoes, garbed in a pretty pink dress that contrasted well with her short, dark hair. She smiled warmly when she saw Fleur and rushed to embrace her.

"Fleur," she cried happily, gazing up into Fleur's lovely face. Audrey was tiny and round-faced with rosy cheeks and a happy expression that seemed to radiate goodness. "It's so good to finally meet you."

"You too," Fleur replied, grinning down at the dainty woman. She was a few years older than herself, in her mid- twenties.

"Is that your sister?" Audrey remarked as she looked out the window. Gabrielle was cheering on the side-lines of the competitive Quidditch game taking place outside.

"Yes, that iz Gabrielle."

"She looks so much like you. Are you teaching her English?"

"Trying to," replied Fleur, moving to assist Mrs Weasley with roast potatoes. "She doesn't 'ave much self- confidence. She zinks zat people will make fun of her."

Audrey gaped at Fleur. "How can she be self-conscious? If I looked like that at twelve, I wouldn't be afraid of anything!"

Fleur laughed. The women continued their chatter, something that Fleur was grateful for. It had been a while since Fleur had had proper 'woman-talk'. It was the one thing she missed the most about being back in France, apart from her family. Since moving to England, Fleur had lost contact with her friends from Beauxbatons, which she regretted. It was important to have female companionship in her life; and even though her relationship with Ginny and Mrs Weasley was developing, it was nothing compared to Élodie and Antoinette's friendship.

Mrs Weasley, Fleur and Audrey laid the table with lunch of roast chicken, roasted potatoes and green salad. The boys and Ginny came in off their brooms, hot, sweaty and hungry. Gabrielle immediately sat next to Harry and gave him an endearing smile, much to the annoyance of Ginny who resorted to sitting next to Hermione.

"Bon appétit!" cried Fleur throatily and everyone began to tuck into the magnificent meal. Nothing could be heard except the clattering of cutlery against the plates and the grumbling of satisfied stomachs. Suddenly, a silver fox patronus appeared in the centre of the table. Fleur gasped. It was her mother's patronus.

"Ton papa a mort," mumbled the fox with a throaty accent thick with tears. The message was broken off with a shriek from Gabrielle, who rushed from the table, hands clutching her face desperately. Fleur took a moment to react. She thought for a minute she had misheard her mother's patronus. As she glanced up, tears swimming in her eyes, she saw everyone's confused expressions. The only person who understood what had happen was Hermione. Her face was wrought with shock as she gaped at Fleur with wide eyes.

"What happened?" Mrs Weasley whispered to Bill. Fleur glanced at her husband, whose hand had moved to her thigh and gave it a gentle squeeze.

"What's wrong love?" he asked softly.

Fleur shook her head and excused herself from the table, using the excuse of finding Gabrielle to rid her of the presence of people. As she left the table to find her distraught sister, she heard Hermione explain to the family; "Her father just died."

* * *

**So what did you think? Please don't hate me! Review instead :) xx**


	9. June 14 1998

**Hey there :) Sorry about the late update but I have been extremely busy with exams and things. So this chapter follows on almost immediately after the previous chapter. There is a little snippet from June 13 which I have added in here, but the rest is June 14 :) Enjoy xx**

* * *

June 14 1998

Her body felt numb as Fleur rushed after her sister. She found Gabrielle, crumbled in the long grass, releasing heartbroken sobs into the heat of the afternoon.

"Gabrielle!" she cried as she flung herself at her sister's limp form and pulled the girl into her arms.

"Papa!" wailed Gabrielle, weeping into Fleur's shoulder as she patted her hair. Fleur didn't know what to say, so she merely kissed Gabrielle's hair and cried along with her. Her father was dead. She had always known this day would come; Monsieur Delacour had been ill for a long time, but it still came as a sudden shock.

"Je sais, ma petite, c'est horrible!" Fleur said, hugging her sister tightly. It all caught up to her. All the memories when she was a child, when he had called her the most beautiful girl in the world. For once, she wished she was still back in France, to be by her father's side while he passed.

"_Papa!" cried a little girl, bouncing up and down with a large grin on her face. _

"_Oui, ma belle?" said the man. He was stout with a black moustache and beamed down at his little daughter. _

"_Regardez ma jolie robe!" The little girl spun around, her pink dress flailing out around her slim legs. _

"_Alas, c'est magnifique!" admired the man, leaning down to kiss his daughter's cheek. "Tu est la plus belle fille du monde!"_

_The girl looked up at him through her silvery-blonde locks and smiled. _

"_Vraiment?" she asked with wide, sapphire eyes._

"_Vraiment, Fleur! Tu est ma petite fleur, la plus belle dans le jardin !" _

_The girl gave a toothy grin and leant up on her tiptoes to kiss her father's cheek. _

"_Je t'aime, papa!" she planted a sloppy kiss on his cheek before skipping away to see her mother. _

"_Je t'aime..."_

"Fleur!" She looked up and saw Bill hurrying towards her. She quickly brushed away her tears and smoothed her hair. Fleur knew that she shouldn't hide her feelings from Bill but she hated looking weak. He rushed to her side and cradled her in his arms.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, stroking his distraught wife's hair.

"Ce n'est pas ta faute, ma cherie," Fleur assured him, trying to keep a brave face for Gabrielle's sake. "Zeeze, zings 'appen."

The rest of the Weasley family were coming out of the door to investigate. Fleur felt it exceptionally rude that they always had to interfere with other people's business; particularly now. Her father had just passed and she needed some time with her own family to process the knowledge first.

"Send zem away," she ordered Bill. "I do not want to try and act like ze perfect 'ousewife when my father 'as just died!"

Bill was a little surprised at the gruffness in her voice, but obeyed her wishes and went to ask his family to leave them alone for a while.

"Merci, Guillaume," said Fleur gratefully, wiping her eyes with the hem of her dress. "I don't want Molly to zink I am weak!"

Bill shook his head at her and kissed her. "You aren't weak, honey. You're the bravest woman I know."

Gabrielle whimpered in Fleur's arms. "Viens," said Fleur, helping her sister to her feet. "Guillaume, we 'ave to go. Go home."

Bill nodded solemnly. "Of course. We'll take Floo Powder to get back to the cottage. I'll just tell -"

"No Bill," Fleur interrupted. "We 'ave to go home – to France. For ze funeral."

The full force of what she had just said, hit her abruptly – like a bitter winter wind. Fleur's eyes welled up and she cradled Gabrielle closer to her.

"I want to go home, Bill. I want ma maman." It was barely more than a whisper...

xXx

Bill had never been to France before. Fleur's family lived in the South of France, in Marseille. It was quite a large city, the second largest after Paris. Although it was summer in England, Bill was not prepared for the heat of Marseille. It was a strange dry heat, unfamiliar and oppressive. But Fleur didn't seem to mind it at all. Gabrielle clung to Fleur's side as they traipsed up the street to Fleur's house. It was quite close to the beach, similar to Shell Cottage. Bill now understood Fleur's attraction to their house: it reminded her of home.

Fleur knocked softly on the wooden door and it opened almost immediately, as though they were expected. Apolline Delacour stood in the doorway, her blue eyes red and puffy from crying. Her usual cold expression was replaced with remorse, something Fleur had never seen before except when her mother miscarried when Fleur was six.

"Mes cheries," whispered Apolline, pulling her daughters into her arms and kissing their faces repeatedly, as though afraid that she might lose them too. Bill watched on in silence. He knew it wasn't his place- he barely knew Fleur's family at all and didn't want to interfere with their mourning. But then Apolline did something unexpected. She stepped forward and embraced him fiercely, reminding Bill of his own mother.

"Entrer," she said and ushered her guests inside. The living room was completely bare; all furniture had been removed, and candles and flowers decorated the room. Fleur told him that it was customary in France to let the deceased 'lie in state' at home for the family to pay their respects. In the centre of the room was the coffin, which Fleur ran to immediately, sobbing and clutching it desperately. Gabrielle joined her, continually crying the name of their father. Two women entered the room; a tall brunette and small blonde, whose hair was more golden than Fleur's.

"Fleur," they whispered in their throaty French accents. Fleur's head snapped up immediately and her face broke out into a watery smile.

"Élodie! Antoinette!" she cried, rushing to embrace the women. Their combined sobs filled the room, as the women clung to each other and uttering phrases in French that Bill didn't understand. He felt rather out of place in the gathering. Until he felt someone grasp his hand. It was Gabrielle. Her pretty, youthful face was streaked with tears, and she huddled into his side and wrapped an arm around his waist. Bill smiled and patted his sister-in-laws shoulder- it was all he could do to comfort her.

The funerary ceremony was fairly short and simple. A local 'père' arrived; the equivalent of the English priest, and said a quick sermon and recounted the life of Monsieur Delacour. Then there was the 'asperges'; blessing the coffin with holy water. Gabrielle still clung to Bill's side, tears dipping down the end of her nose. Once the funeral was finished, the père left and the family went into the house to enjoy a feast in honour of the deceased. Fleur was a lot livelier now, talking and gossiping with her friends. Elodie and Antoinette had been to Beauxbatons and were now working in various departments of the French Ministry. They were quite attractive and Bill had an inclination that they were part Veela also, though he didn't ask.

At four o'clock, the guests began to leave and Fleur gave Élodie and Antoinette one last hug goodbye. Fleur, Bill and Gabrielle stayed with Apolline for a few days, helping her with the housework and putting the furniture back. Fleur often caught her mother sobbing into her father's handkerchiefs while she polished Monsieur Delacour's favourite gold watch.

On the fourth day, Fleur decided that they really must get back home. She gave her mother one more hug.

"Prenez garde, maman," said Fleur, kissing both of her mother's cheeks affectionately.

"Je le ferai, ma cherie," said Apolline, dabbing at her eyes with her handkerchief. "Gabrielle, demeures-tu?"

Gabrielle shook her head and gave her sister a smile. "Non, maman. Je vais rester avec Fleur pour un peu plus longtemps."

Apolline nodded her head and gave her youngest daughter a quick kiss goodbye.

"Prenez garde, mes filles," she said as she waved goodbye. "Je vous aime!"

* * *

**So what did you think? I wanted to make the funeral a bit different, as it is in France. Please read and review! I enjoy feedback :) xx**


	10. August 3 1998

**August the Third... and important day in Bill and Fleur's life. Find out why :) xx**

* * *

August 3 1998

For the fifth time that night, the bathroom light flickered on. Bill stirred as he felt his wife leave their bed and rush to the bathroom. The sound of Fleur hurling into the toilet roused him and, concerned for her, he followed. Fleur was bent over the toilet clutching her stomach. Curtains of silvery-blonde hair fell in front of her face.

"Are you alright, love?" asked Bill tenderly, kneeling beside his wife. She turned to look at him and he swallowed. She looked awful. There were large, dark circles under her eyes and her face was pale and sweaty. Strands of hair clung to her forehead and her lips were slightly dry. She opened her mouth to reply, before leaning over the toilet again to hurl. Bill patted her back gently.

"It's alright, honey," he said, wiping the bile off her chin with a towel. She slumped into his arms, her breathing heavy.

"Maybe we should take you to St Mungos," Bill suggested as he pressed a hand to his wife's forehead. She was a little warm but nothing too drastic, so why was she spending so much time with her head in the basin?

"Non, Guillaume," she said weakly, shaking her head. "It iz just a little stomach bug. It iz nothing too serious."

"But Fleur, this is the fifth time you've thrown up. That can't be normal. We should see someone," Bill insisted.

Fleur smiled and trailed her fingers along her husband's cheek. "You worry about me too much, Guillaume."

Bill caught her fingers and kissed them softly, his eyes never leaving hers. "That is because you are my wife. I am allowed to worry about you."

Fleur didn't respond, simply content to lie there for a while. Bill held her securely to his chest, watching fondly as her eyes fluttered shut. He didn't blame her. She must have been exhausted after being disturbed five times during the night. Bill ran his fingers through her long hair. It was so silky beneath his callused skin. He enjoyed the feel of it; he always had.

Suddenly, Fleur's eyes sprang open, a look of horror on her face. She leapt up off the ground and ran into the bedroom.

"Bill," she said, pacing back and forth and wringing her hands together. "Bill, what is ze date?"

"The third," said Bill, following her and tilting his head to the side as he watched her. "Why, love?"

Fleur didn't answer for a while. She began counting on her fingers- for what, Bill had no idea.

"Oh, sacrebleu!" she cried, coming to a halt. "I'm late, I'm late, I'm late," she muttered.

"Fleur? What's wrong?" he grasped her arms and forced her to look at him, worried for her health. "What do you mean you're late?"

Fleur stared at him seriously, her lips trembling and her eyes swimming with shock and excitement.

"Guillaume," she said in a whisper. "I zink zat I am pregnant!"

xXx

"Yes," said the mediwitch, looking up from the cauldron at the young couple. "You are definitely pregnant."

Fleur gave her husband a watery smile. Tears leaked out of her eyes and she gripped his hand tightly.

"I'll leave you two alone for a moment," said the mediwitch, disappearing behind the curtain to the backroom.

Bill was speechless. A baby. He couldn't believe Fleur was pregnant; with his child. He was overwhelmed with so many different emotions that he didn't know what to feel. So he merely sat, stunned, his eyes on Fleur's non-existent baby bump wherein lay his child. He knew it was going to be a boy- he just knew it.

Fleur brought his hands to her flat belly.

"We are going to be parents, Guillaume," she said in a rasp. He looked into her tear filled eyes and returned her ecstatic grin. "Izn't it amazing?"

"It is indeed, love," said Bill, kissing his wife tenderly.

* * *

**Yay! Little Victoire has made her first appearance :) Please read and review! xx**


	11. September 12 1998

**Another update :) Late again, I know. I'm sorry. This one is just simple and sweet. Please enjoy :) xx**

* * *

September 12 1998

Fleur stepped out of the bathroom in her towel, to find Bill sitting at the dresser with his head in a book. His hair was tied back in a long ponytail and his eyebrows were knitted together in concentration as he poured over the text. A groan of frustration left his pursed lips and he rubbed the back of his neck with his hands.

"Qu'est-ce que c'est, ma cherie?" asked Fleur, flipping her damp hair to one side and approaching her husband.

"Why is this so difficult," he muttered. Fleur flittered to his side and rested her dainty hands on Bill's shoulders, slowing easing the tension. She kissed his cheek as she read over his shoulder. He quickly shut the book and stood up, as though hiding something.

"Iz everzing alright, Guillaume?" asked Fleur. She watched Billchanged out of his robes and head into the bathroom, as she sat on the dresser, brushing her long hair.

"Bill?" Fleur asked again, feeling slightly worried. But her husband ignored her and soon the rushing of water drowned out Fleur's questions. A frown marred her features as he delicately rubbed some moisturiser on her face and changed into her silk nightgown. Running her fingers through her hair to disperse any stubborn knots, she perched herself on the edge of the bed and waited for Bill to finish his shower. Why had he been so harsh with her? She had only wanted to know what was going on, since he looked so frustrated. Maybe she could help him?

The sound of the water came to a halt and soon Bill's face peeked out of the door. The rest of his body followed, his only item of clothing a towel hanging loosely from his hips. Fleur couldn't help but admire him. Bill noticed this and grinned.

"Like what you see?" he winked at her, reaching her in two long strides and kissing her fiercely. Fleur was utterly confused and pushed away.

"What iz with you, Bill?" she snapped, crossing her arms and pouting up at him. "First you ignore me and now you want me? Je ne comprends pas!"

"Sorry," he mumbled sheepishly. "I was just having a moment. I needed to cool off."

"Merde," exclaimed Fleur, frowning at him. "I am going to bed."

Bill waggled his eyebrows at her again and went to kiss her again. She evaded his advances and slid under the covers, sticking her nose haughtily in the air.

"Fine," said Bill, dropping his towel and changing into his grey pyjama pants. "Two can play at this game." But he turned back around, expecting to see Fleur poking her tongue at him playfully, he saw his wife curled up on her side, hugging her pillow. Her blonde hair was spread out next to her and her lips were slightly parted with her deep and heavy breathing. He smiled and slipped next to her, wrapping his arms around her waist. Her hair tickled his face as he kissed her cheek softly.

"Je t'aime," he whispered. A smile tugged at the corners of Fleur's mouth and her dark blue eyes flew open.

"You 'ave been practising?" she whispered in excitement.

"Oui, j'ai été," he said proudly.

Fleur's eyes swam with adoration and she threw her arms around his neck. "Oh, Guillaume," she sobbed, kissing him fiercely. "Vous serait vraiment faire ça? Pour moi?"

Bill chuckled and pulled Fleur into his lap. "Honey, I'm only learning. Don't expect me to be fluent yet."

Fleur laughed and traced her fingers lightly over his scars. "But you are learning, Guillaume," she said. "Zat is enough for me. Mais, pourquoi?"

Bill tipped her chin and kissed her softly. "I don't know how to say this," he murmured sheepishly, "But I want to embrace your heritage. We're married and having a baby and I want our children to speak French and communicate with their French cousins and be proud that their mother is French. I certainly am."

"Vraiment?"

"Vraiment," said Bill, pressing his forehead against hers.

"Good night, Guillaume," said Fleur tenderly, sinking back under the covers and laying her head on his chest.

"Bonne nuit, mon chere," said Bill, reaching for his book and reading it in the light of his wand. "Crap," he mumbled, frowning as his mouth tried to form the words on the page. Bloody French. Why did it have to be so difficult to pronounce. What was with their obsession with not pronouncing the ends of their words? Bill sighed and looked down at his sleeping wife. He was doing this for her, for their baby. If that meant he had to struggle with learning the language under the covers at night, that's what he would do. Kissing her forehead one last time, he turned back to his French book and began muttering a string of French greetings under his breath.

* * *

**Aww Guillaume :) so cute! I really wanted to write this because I always thought that Bill would embrace Fleur's heritage. I mean, he lets his children have French names so that must be something. But having a French wife... he really needs to learn French. So he does. Please read and review :) xx**


	12. December 24 1998

**I am so very sorry for this inexcusably late update. I have been on holidays in Cairns and much to my dismay there was no internet! :'( so I couldn't upload. I am terribly sorry. But please forgive me and enjoy my next chapter :) xx**

* * *

December 24 1998

The fire was roaring on that cold Christmas Eve night as everyone gathered in the Burrow's sitting room. Apolline Delacour and Gabrielle had Flooed to the Burrow to spend Christmas with Fleur and the Weasleys. Gabrielle was shooting Ginny vicious glares as she sat in Harry's arms. Apolline was talking heartily with Mr Weasley, Percy and Audrey about the French and British Ministries. Hermione was poised in front of the fire, lying on her stomach with her nose in a book; Ron rested his head on her back and stared up at the ceiling. George and Angelina were roaring with laughter at something that Harry had said. But despite the raucous noise of the family, Bill and Fleur were content with being silent. Fleur sat on the couch with Bill next to her. One of his arms was around her shoulders and the other was gently resting on her growing stomach. It wasn't large compared to most women at four months, but on Fleur's slender frame it looked enormous. She absentmindedly rubbed circles on her belly, which was threatening to burst through the blouse she was wearing.

"Oooh," she gasped slightly, scrunching up her face. Bill cast her a concerned look.

"What is it, love?" he asked.

"Nothing," she assured him, giving him a brilliant smile. "'E is just kicking, Guillaume. See?"

She grasped his hand and placed it more firmly on her belly. A few moments later, Bill's eyes went wide and he eyed her belly with adoration.

"Merlin," he cried, his voice filled with emotion. "He's moving. How long has he been doing that for?"

Fleur smiled. "'e only started last week with ze kicking. But at least we know zat 'e really iz zare."

Bill grinned and leaned in to give Fleur a passionate kiss.

"It iz a little annoying," she said.

"It's amazing," he assured her, rubbing her belly affectionately. Fleur nuzzled into the Bill's neck and sighed contently.

"Oooh," she gasped again. "If 'e does zat again, 'e is going to burst maman's buttons."

Bill chuckled. "You should have worn a bigger shirt, love," he said jokingly.

Fleur glared at him. "What iz zat supposed to mean?"

Bill gulped. "Nothing... it's just... you've increased a fair few dress sizes over the last few months and..."

"You zink zat I am fat?" cried Fleur incredulously, her face fierce.

Bill put his hands up in surrender. "No!" he promised. "I could never think you are fat!"

Fleur crossed her arms. "'Ow could you, Bill! You did zis to me, remember! It iz not my fault I am turning into une grosse femme!"

Fleur rose aggressively, but the force burst the buttons on her blouse and it flew open, revealing her porcelain, rounded stomach. Mortified, Fleur drew her blouse around her and hurried from the room. Bill immediately made to go after her but Mrs Weasley, who had been watching the conversation, shook her head at him.

"You will only make it worse, dear," she told him.

Bill groaned in frustration. "I don't think she's fat. I think she looks beautiful! I told her, but she won't listen to me!"

"The first thing you need to understand Bill," Mrs Weasley chided. "Is that you can't talk about dress sizes and weight around pregnant women. They're self-conscious enough as it is with carrying a Quaffle under their shirts, but telling them that only makes them feel worse."

"What am I supposed to do then? She won't enlarge her clothes to fit her properly. She's in denial!"

Mrs Weasley thought for a moment and smiled. "I have just the thing."

Fleur dried her eyes and glanced down at her body. She looked disgusting; this large round growth sticking out from her otherwise perfect body. Fleur's appearance had always been her main pride and to have it disfigured was too much for her. What else did she have without her beauty? Fleur instantly felt guilty thinking those thoughts. Inside her stomach, was her growing child; her child with Guillaume. He just needed a place to grow and Fleur's flat abdomen was not big enough for him. Fleur smiled and rubbed her belly.

"Je suis desole, ma cherie," she whispered. "Je t'aime."

She heard someone approach and instantly composed herself.

"Fleur, dear," said Mrs Weasley. "We are going to have pudding now."

Fleur nodded and followed Mrs Weasley back inside, covering her stomach with her arms. Bill gave her a weak smile as she entered which she didn't return. Her pride was still hurt from his comment. Mrs Weasley dashed under the large Christmas tree in the corner and retrieved a large, light blue box with a white ribbon.

"Now," she exclaimed as everyone focussed on her. "I know it is a day early for opening presents, but I think, given the circumstances, that we can make this little exception."

She walked over to Fleur and handed her the box. "Merry Christmas, Fleur," she said warmly. "I thought you might need this, seeing as it is a cold night. Besides, every Weasley has one."

Fleur smiled and opened the box carefully. Her face was aglow with gratitude as she pulled out a purple, hand-made, woollen jumper. There was an 'F' embroidered in gold on the front, surrounded by lilies, orchids and pink roses. Fleur's eyes grew teary and she bent to hug Mrs Weasley.

"Merci beaucoup," she gushed. "It iz just what I need."

"Welcome to the family," said Mrs Weasley tearfully, patting her daughter-in-law's stomach wherein lay her first grandchild. "These jumpers are great for hiding pregnancies," she added with a knowing smile. Fleur kissed both her cheeks and hastily pulled the jumper over her head and around her belly. It was a little baggy, but soft and warm and smelt of flowers. Fleur turned to Bill and smiled, who strode over to her and kissed her full on the mouth.

"You look more beautiful right now than you ever have," he told her. She blushed and hugged his side. She could do this. It was going to be alright.

* * *

**Aww. Poor Fleur... it would be a big change for her to go from slender and beautiful to having this round belly. But Bill still loves her. I would like to thank Slytherin66 for the suggestion about the Weasley jumper :) It was a great idea and I hope I did it justice :) Please read and review :) xx**


	13. February 7 1999

**Hello there! It's been a long long _long_ time since I've updated this story. But don't worry, I haven't abandonned it! I was just suffering from writer's block (which, if you've never had it before, totally SUCKS) But you'll be pleased to know that I don't have it anymore. And I made this chapter especially long to make it up to you! Please enjoy xx**

* * *

February 7 1999

Much to Bill's disappointment, he had been forced to work later hours due to clean up after the war. Kingsley, to ensure everyone's safety, had instructed a team of Curse Breakers from Gringotts to team up with the Department of Magical Law Enforcement to raid former Death Eater vaults and manage any dangerous items. As Bill was a Curse Breaker, he had been assigned to this team, and it is was hectic work. He rarely came home before seven o'clock and it was straining his relationship with Fleur. She was now six months pregnant and she was finding it difficult to stay up late and wait for him to come home. Many nights, Bill would come home and find his dinner sitting on bench- having gone cold long before - and his wife tucked into their bed fast asleep. He was yearning for a weekend off to spend with Fleur and after another month of late nights, Bill was granted a free weekend.

He came home one stormy Friday afternoon to find his wife dusting the kitchen cabinets. Her short, salmon-pink dress was stretched tight over her round belly and rode up her slim, pale thighs as she reached up to swipe the cobwebs from the ceiling. Bill smirked and quickly threw his travelling cloak and hat on the bench before creeping up behind Fleur and pulling her into a tight embrace. She gave a small squeak of surprise and turned her head to place a sweet kiss on his mouth.  
"You are 'om early, Guillaume."  
He smiled at her and rubbed her belly tenderly. "Well, I couldn't leave you and Junior alone in the storm now, could I?"  
Fleur gave him a radiant smile and kissed him again.  
"Don't call our bébé zat 'orrible nom, Guillaume," she scolded him playfully. She pulled out of his arms and continued cleaning the kitchen. "And don't leave your coat and hat on ze bench, ma chére. Put zem away on ze 'atstand."  
Bill smirked as he went to put his things away.  
"Yes, dear," he said.

Bill sat down at the bench and flicked idly through the Prophet.  
"Anyzing interesting 'appen at work, Guillaume?" Fleur asked as she wiped down the bench.  
"No, nothing dear. But, I have-"  
"- Zat is a shame," Fleur interrupted. "I can't believe zey make you work so many hours. It is ridiculous!"  
"Yes, I know. But about that-"  
"- Zey should really give you some time off. I never get to see you anymore and-"  
"- I know, but-"  
"- I 'ate being here every day all by myself. It is so lonely-"  
"- Honey-"  
"- I mean, Molly comes around sometimes, but zat is not ze same and- "

"- Fleur!" Bill cried. Fleur snapped her head up at him as though she only just realised he was there. Bill stood up and gripped her slender shoulders tightly, staring into her deep blue eyes.  
"Just listen for a moment," he told her. "I've been given the entire weekend off."  
Fleur nodded. "Oh, zat is wonderful, Bill! We 'ave dinner at your muzzer's tomorrow night – "

Bill chuckled, putting a finger on her lips. Fleur pouted against his finger and put her hands on her hips. "I've got the weekend off, so I'm going to take the wife I love up north for a holiday and that's all there is to it."  
He finally released her and Fleur began to protest. "But what about dinner tomorrow night?"  
Bill shook his head. "No. No dinners. I'll tell mum we're busy." Bill kissed her and brushed some of her fair hair out of her face. "It'll be just you, me and a cosy fireplace. How does that sound?"  
Fleur smiled, "Parfait," she whispered huskily and stretched up on her toes to kiss him.  
"Good," said Bill, breaking away from the kiss. "Well then, let's get packing!"  
He grasped Fleur's hand and pulled her upstairs into their bedroom. Fleur watched in bewilderment as her husband began throwing things into a small suitcase at rapid speed. In a matter of minutes he was packed and sitting on the bed, peering inquiringly up at his wife. She gave him a confused look and tilted her head to the side.  
"What are you waiting for?" he asked her, grinning like a child on Christmas.  
"We 'ave to leave now?"  
"Yes," he insisted. "I booked reservations for the weekend starting tonight."  
"D'accord," Fleur shrugged and began pulling out clothes and folding them neatly into a small suitcase. "Where are we going?"  
Bill winked at her. "It's a surprise."  
Fleur giggled and continued packing. Once she was ready, she gripped Bill's hand tightly and together, they vanished into the night.

When Fleur opened her eyes, she found herself standing in a forest. The trees loomed tall around her and their foliage was so closely knitted together, that it blocked out the evening sky. In the clearing up ahead, stood a quaint little cottage. Its roof was covered in vines and fallen leaves from trees, and moss crawled up the sides. Lining the footpath to the cottage, were dozens of rose bushes. White lace curtains hung in the windows and smoke billowed elegantly out of the chimney. Fleur gazed at it in rapture and beamed radiantly up at Bill.  
"What iz zis?" she asked him. He didn't reply. Instead, he scooped his wife up into his arms and carried her inside the cottage. Fleur giggled and leant her head on his shoulder.  
"This," Bill explained as he opened the door to the cottage, "Is our delayed honeymoon."  
He set Fleur softly on her feet and kept his hands on her waist as she stared around the cottage. It had a rustic feel about it. The hard wood floor were a deep brown that glowed in the dimly lit lights that lined the corridor. Oil paintings hung from the walls. The corridor opened up to a cosy living room with a deep burgundy rug covering the floor. An overstuffed, cream loveseat sat snugly around a wooden fire place. Fleur immediately imagined cuddling next to Bill in front of the fire as the snow fell softly outside. Bill steered her into the kitchen, which had more of a modern twist while still keeping with the rustic theme. A square wooden table sat in the corner with two chairs, and the window opened up to the forest. It was a lively view.  
"Zis iz wonderful, Guillaume," Fleur said, turning her beautiful head and kissing him sweetly.  
"You haven't even seen the bedroom yet," Bill smirked and took her hand, pulling her down the corridor to the bedroom. Like before, he picked her up and carried her into the room. Fleur gasped. It was huge - a big as the kitchen. A large king-size bed sat in the centre, with a cream bedspread. There was a small walk-in robe that was next to the ensuite bathroom. Bill placed his wife gently on the bed- she fell back amongst the cluster of pillows.  
"Wait here," Bill told her. "I'm going to bring our bags in."  
"Tout de suite," Fleur replied. Bill winked at her and left, leaving Fleur alone in the bedroom. She rubbed circles along her swollen belly affectionately.  
"Ton papa est trop bon pour moi," she crooned. The baby kicked through the fabric of her dress and Fleur smiled. "Tu comprend, ma cherie?" The baby kicked again and Fleur giggled with happiness.  
"What's so funny?"  
Fleur looked up to find Bill leaning against the door frame, his arms folded across his chest and one eyebrow raised. Their bags were resting at the foot of the door.  
"'E kicked again."  
Bill's expression changed to one of awe and he crawled onto the bed next to Fleur.  
"Really?" he placed one hand on her belly and stared at it with wide eyes. Fleur put her hand over his and moved it over her stomach. Suddenly, the baby kicked twice, two hard bumps formed in her smooth belly. Bill's face broke out into an enraptured grin and he laughed happily.  
"He kicked twice!" he cried excitedly, kissing Fleur hard.  
"'E knows 'is papa," said Fleur tenderly.  
"He's amazing." Bill said. He kicked off his shoes and put his arm around Fleur. She hugged his side and rubbed her bare feet against his calf. They kissed tenderly for a few minutes- a luxury they hadn't had in a long time. It was nice to spend some quality time with each other, without intruding family members or work commitments getting in the way. After a while, Bill pulled away and rubbed Fleur's belly fondly.  
"You look tired, love" he remarked. Fleur simply smiled. "Zis pregnancy takes it out of me."  
Bill took her hands and helped her off the bed. "C'mon," he said. "I'm going to run you a bubble bath."  
"Why?"  
At this, Bill kissed her softly and ran a hand through her silky, silvery hair. "Because, you deserve to be pampered."  
Fleur blushed as they walked into the ensuite bathroom. She felt like the luckiest woman in the world, as Bill began turning on the bath and filling it with bath oils and bubbles. Her husband truly loved her.

Once the bath was ready, Fleur slipped out of her dress and Bill helped her into the tub - a difficult task since she was six months pregnant. The water was warm and Fleur closed her eyes in satisfaction as she sank into the bath.  
"C'est magnifique," she exclaimed, as Bill leant down and kissed her cheek. "Merci, Guillaume."  
"Enjoy it, ma belle," he said, making Fleur grin as he attempted to speak in her native language. "I'm going to make you an omelette and bring you a glass of water. Is that alright?"  
"C'est parfait, ma cherie."  
Bill patted her hand and left the bathroom. Fleur relished this time alone, sinking deeper into the bath tub until the bubbles floated around her chin and her hair trailed about in the water. She was so content and the water was so comforting, that she rested her head behind her on the edge of the bath and drifted off to sleep.

After what seemed like hours later, Bill woke her up, with a plate in one hand and a glass of water in the other. Fleur sat up slowly and rested the plate on her bulging belly and took a sip from her glass.  
"Mmm, delicieux," she sighed happily.  
"I'm pleased to hear it," said Bill. "You take your time, ma cherie. I'm going to Floo mum."  
Fleur nodded and began to eat her omelette hungrily. Bill chuckled as he went out to the fireplace and threw in a handful of Floo powder.  
"Molly Weasley, the Burrow, Ottery St Catchpole."  
The fire turned green for a second and soon, his mother's head appeared in the flames.  
"Oh, it's you Bill," she said, a little flustered. She must have been making dinner. "How are you, dear?"  
"Just great, thanks Mum. How are you and Dad?  
"Oh, I'm alright dear. Your father's been working overtime recently though, what with going through the items in Death Eater vaults. Running him ragged. I hardly see him anymore- though, I suppose it is the same for you, dear?"  
Bill nodded. "It's been hectic for Fleur, me not being home to help her."  
"Poor thing," agreed Mrs Weasley sadly. "I try to come around a few times every week but I've been busy helping with George that I just haven't had the time."

"It's hard for her," admitted Bill.

"I know, dear, I know. I don't blame her. But you should think about taking some time off. She is pregnant, you know, and it can't be good for her to do everything by herself."  
"I know, Mum," said Bill, shaking his head. He was twenty-eight and still had to take orders from his mother. "I've got the weekend off, so I've taken Fleur up north for a little getaway."  
Mrs Weasley beamed at her son. "That sounds lovely, dear. It will be great for you to spend some quality time together. So, does that mean you won't be coming to dinner tomorrow night?" Bill shook his head. Mrs Weasley sighed, "That's alright, Percy and Audrey are coming and so are George and Angelina. It would've been nice to see you, that's all."  
"I know, Mum, but Fleur needs me."  
"She's a lucky girl," said Mrs Weasley fondly.  
There was a clang as someone came through the door and Mrs Weasley turned her head. "I've got to go, Bill, your father's home. Give my love to Fleur for me."  
"Of course, bye Mum."  
The fire returned to normal and Bill sat back on his heels, thinking over his mother's words. He was the lucky one, in his opinion. Rising from the ground, he loosened his tie and began to unbutton his shirt as he headed into the bedroom. As he sat down on the bed, he heard Fleur swearing in French from inside the ensuite.  
"Fleur!" he cried, jumping up instantly and knocking on the bathroom door. Had something happened to her? Had she fallen? "Fleur, is everything alright."  
Another curse filtered under the door followed by her throaty voice, "Everyzing iz fine, Guillaume."  
"Do you need help getting out?" he asked, extremely concerned for his wife.  
"Non, I am already out. I just need to be left alone for a while."  
"Oh, okay," he said, sitting back down on the bed. He was worried about her- he would never forgive himself if she was hurt.

Fleur continued to swear and Bill continued to stare at the bathroom door.  
"Fleur, you can't stay in there forever." he called.  
"Oui, I can," she called back, thickly. She sounded like she was crying.  
"Just come out, honey, please."  
"Non!"  
"Please!" Bill begged. Fleur swore one more time and slowly, the door opened. She was standing in the bathroom wearing a sheer, pink nightgown that finished just below her hip bones and matching, lacy underwear. Her belly bulged underneath, making her nightgown shorter than it actually was. Her head was pointed at the floor and she kept pulling her nightgown down in embarrassment.  
"See?" she said quietly. "I try to do somezing sexy and I just look ridiculous!"  
Bill stared at her in wonder. Never had she looked more beautiful than at that moment. He approached her and encircled one arm around her waist and tilted her chin to look in her eyes. She looked away, refusing to meet his gaze.  
"Fleur," he said softly. "You are beautiful." he kissed her forehead, then each of her eyelids and her nose, and then finally her mouth.  
"I was bootiful," she corrected him. "Now I am ze size of a hippogriff."  
Bill kissed her against and gently lifted up the hem of her nightshirt to expose her swollen stomach. He ran his hands over it then bent down and brushed his lips over her pale skin.  
"Bill, pas..." Fleur pulled away, embarrassed by his affections. She dug around in her suitcase and pulled out her purple Weasley jumper. She quickly threw it on; more comfortable now she was covered. Bill sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He would never understand his wife during pregnancy.

Fleur headed out to the living room and Bill followed her. It was pleasantly warm and the fire cast a golden red hue over the dark wood floors. They sat together on the loveseat and Fleur leaned into his side. Her hair spilled down his bare chest, creating a sort of silky blanket. With a yawn, she curled her feet up beside her and put her arm around his waist.  
"Do you ever zink of names for our bébé?" she mused as she played with some of his chest hair.  
"Well, I've had a few ideas..." he stroked he hair gently and kissed her forehead. "I was thinking something French. I want everyone to know that I married a beautiful, stubborn and fierce French woman."  
Fleur laughed, but was secretly glad that Bill appreciated her heritage.  
"Zank you, Guillaume."  
"Have you thought of any names?"  
Fleur chewed on her lip for a moment. "A few... I like Louis for a boy. Zat was my favourite cousin's name and we were very close as children. But he moved to America when I was zirteen and I 'aven't seen 'im since."  
"Oh... Louis... That's got a bit of a ring to it. I quite like it actually. And it's something fairly masculine and nice, unlike Pierre or something."  
Fleur burst out into tinkling laughter. "Not all ze French are called Pierre, Guillaume."  
"Still, at least I can say the name properly, unlike Gweearm."  
"Guillaume," Fleur corrected.  
"It sounds better when you say it. What about girl's names?"  
"Isabelle, my middle name? Or Gabrielle after my sister? Or Dominique – I 'ave always liked that nom? I haven't really thought of girl names, since I 'ave a feeling 'e is un garçon."  
"Dominque is nice."  
They sat in silence for a while until Fleur giggled and kissed his cheek. "It's exciting, n'est-ce pas? To zink of 'aving our own bébé?"  
"I know," Bill beamed down at her. "I just hope..." his voice trailed off and he looked away. Fleur saw a glimpse of sadness in his light blue eyes and sat up.  
"Guillaume, what iz it?"  
"Nothing," he said giving her a fake smile. Fleur was not impressed and pouted at him, raising one eyebrow and crossing her arms.  
"William Arzer Weasley! Tell me what iz wrong zis minuit!"  
Bill rung his hands together. "I just hope that my... scars won't affect the baby."  
Fleur smiled warmly and caressed his damaged cheek, her fingertips lingering along each scar.  
"Zey won't, Guillaume," she assured him. "Remember what Remus said- about 'ow you are not a full werewolf. If it doesn't affect you, it will not affect ze bébé."  
"But what if it does!" cried Bill, grasping Fleur's hands firmly and staring straight into her eyes. "It would kill me, to think that I would burden the baby. I couldn't live with it."  
Fleur kissed his cheek gently. "Guillaume, even if zat does 'appen, I will not love our child any less. Will you?"  
"No, of course not," he muttered. "I will love it with all my heart."  
"Good." Fleur pulled Bill into her arms and stroked his hair. "Je t'aime, ma cherie."  
"Je t'aime aussi, ma belle."

* * *

**Awwww :) I'm sorry but I think this chapter is cute! I love Bill and Fleur's relationship! They are just so adorable! Please read and review! xx**


	14. May 2 1999

**As you may have noticed, I haven't updated much for this story lately. That's because I've been carefully planning how I was going to write this chapter. See... this is a very important chapter! And I wanted to get it right! **I have never witnessed childbirth or given birth myself and have only read about a few in very vague description so I apologise if it is not correct! Please forgive me** Enjoy! xx**

* * *

_2 May 1999_

Bill wrapped his arms around Fleur's heavily pregnant frame as Kingsley approached the lectern. His face was grim and solemn as he addressed the congregation in his soothing voice.

"We are gathered here today, to pay our respects to those who sacrificed their lives on this day, one year ago, during the wizarding war. Though many sacrificed their lives, they gave us all the most precious gift – peace."

His loud voice echoed throughout the memorial. Thousands had lined up to pay their respects and as Fleur looked around, she saw every man, woman and child with tears in their eyes. The war had affected everyone in the wizarding community.

She looked up at Bill's face and her heart broke when she saw his expression. His pale blue eyes stared straight ahead and were shining with tears. His teeth were clenched tightly and Fleur knew he was struggling to hold himself together. Sensing his pain, she ran her hands tenderly up his arms and kissed his shoulder gently. Bill merely held her tighter and rested his chin on her silvery hair.

As the ceremony continued, Fleur felt a strange pain growing in her lower abdomen. She squirmed uncomfortably and rubbed her belly. Cramps were frequent for her now and she was used to them, but they seemed to be more painful this time.

"Ughn," she groaned, squeezing her eyes shut for a second.

"You okay?" asked Bill immediately, concern all over his face.

Fleur swallowed and took deep breaths. "Oui," she said through gritted teeth. "It iz just cramps, Guillaume. I'm fine."

Bill frowned, not at all convinced, but said nothing and kissed her nose softly.

Deep down, Fleur was not fine. She bit down on her lip hard to keep from crying out in pain and disturbing the ceremony. Her breathing was heavy and short and sweat beaded along her forehead. Suddenly, a searing pain ripped through her stomach and she gripped Bill's arms tightly, her nails digging into his skin.

"Argh," she moaned loudly as she doubled over and clutched her belly.

"Fleur!" cried Bill. "What's wrong?"

A few people near them, including Bill's family, were looking at her in concern.

It was then that Fleur felt the wetness between her upper thighs. She met Bill's eyes and they soon widened in understanding.

"Guillaume," she barely whispered, frightened that someone would overhear her. "I zink my water 'as broke."

Bill wasted no more time with unnecessary questions. Without a word, he took hold of Fleur's hand and lead her through the mass of people to the back of the ceremony. Fleur clutched her belly and cried out in pain as another contraction shuddered through her body. People turned their heads to watch the couple weave in and out of the crowd and Fleur felt herself growing incredibly embarrassed. This was not how she had planned the birth of their child. Bill continued to shove people out of the way and pulled Fleur behind him, jerking her roughly. Some people complained and Fleur felt like hexing them all.

"You should have gone to the bathroom before the ceremony!" grumbled one man irritably. Fleur pulled out her wand and turned on him, her expression venomous.

"I'll 'ave you going to ze bathroom in a minuit!" she growled lowly. The man put his hands up in surrender and Fleur glared at him as she followed Bill.

After a few minutes, they were outside the memorial. Fleur put her hands on her hips and crouched slightly.

"Come on," urged Bill, taking her hand and trying to pull her with him. But Fleur stayed put.

"Non! Guillaume I cannot make it! It iz too much for me! I can't run anymore!" her voice was breathy and weak from the pain she was in.

"Well, we're going to have to Apparate. Can you handle that?" He cupped Fleur's face and stared into her deep blue eyes.

She nodded firmly and Bill grasped her hand and turned on the spot. Fleur was barely able to control her nausea when they appeared outside St Mungo's and she collapsed into Bill's arms. Bill half carried her into the hospital and demanded loudly that they been seen immediately. A distressed looking Healer took them down to a room and had Fleur dressed in a simple, light blue hospital gown and laid her on the bed. Her fair eyebrows were screwed up in pain and she gave another cry, squeezing Bill's hand so tightly that he thought he would lose circulation.

"Don't do anything," the Healer advised Bill. "Just look after her."

Bill nodded and the Healer quickly left the room for a moment, leaving the couple alone. Fleur's breathing, while still heavy, had calmed down and she fixed her eyes on Bill's face.

"Don't leave me," she said firmly.

Bill smiled and bent to kiss her. "I won't," he assured her. "I'll just send a patronus to Mum. She wouldn't want to miss the birth of her first grandchild."

Fleur smiled weakly. "I'm sorry to ruin ze memorial. I know zat zis is a difficult time for you... for all of you..."

Bill frowned and shook his head. "You're apologising for going into labour? Fleur, how could you possibly feel guilty about this? This is the greatest day of my life!"

She gave him a sad smile and traced his scarred cheek gently. "But also ze saddest." She closed her eyes and gave a pained groan, squeezing Bill's hand again.

"You alright, love?" he asked.

"No," she said. "Zis is by far ze most painful zing I 'ave ever experienced!" She shot him a glare. "Don't ever do zis to me again!"

Bill was a little taken aback by her words. Luckily, he was spared responding as the Healer had returned and began to do some tests on Fleur to see how far along she was. Bill, not exactly wanting to watch this process, decided to use this time to send a patronus to Mrs Weasley.

When he came back inside, he saw Fleur in an awful lot of pain, her knees up and the Healer encouraging her to push. Bill quickly rushed to her side and took her hand again. She met his eyes and he couldn't shake the feeling that she was accusing him of putting her through this.

"Argh! I'm going to kill you, Bill Weasley!" she screamed as she screwed her eyes shut and squeezed his hand extremely tight.

"You're doing wonderful, love," he told her soothingly, not know what else to say. "Keep it up."

"YOU KEEP IT UP!" she shrieked.

"That's it, Mrs Weasley!" the Healer encouraged.

"Ughn!" she wailed, tears spilling down her cheeks. Bill couldn't watch her – he couldn't stand to see her in so much pain and yet be unable to do anything about it. He looked away, still grasping her hand, and he saw his mother's face peering in through the glass section at the top of the door.

"Fleur," he said. "Mum's here. Do you want her to come in?"

"No!" she cried, shaking her head madly. "She cannot see me like zis! No one can see me like zis. Not even you, Guillaume!"

The only thing comforting about her words was the fact that she used his nickname, which meant that she wasn't angry with him – at least not at the present time. Bill met his mother's eyes through the door and shook his head.

Another face soon appeared next to Mrs Weasley's in the window. Before Bill could recognise who it was, the door burst open and Apolline Delacour hurried into the room.

"Ma fille!" she cried in her throaty accent, crossing the room in three strides and taking her place beside Fleur's bed. "Move! I need to be 'ere with my daughter!" she told the Healer abruptly, before kneeling next to Fleur and taking her hand. "Ma cherie, regarde-moi."

Fleur opened her eyes and beamed at her mother. "Maman!" she cried. "Tu es venu!"

Ms. Delacour shook her head at her daughter. "Bien sûr, ma cherie. Tu penses que je manquerais la naissance de mon premier petit-enfant? Je ne pense pas!" Ms. Delacour bent down and kissed her daughter's cheeks.

"Mais, comment tu sais?" Fleur asked.

"Ton mari," she responded simply.

It was then Fleur turned to look at Bill, her eyes welling with tears and she squeezed his hand gently. "Guillaume..." she whispered, tenderly.

He kissed her forehead and cupped her face. "She needed to be here."

Fleur's response was interrupted by another painful contraction. She let out another anguished cry and her grip tightened once more. Bill thought his fingers would fall off soon.

"Ça y est, ma cherie. Poussez!"

Bill watched in fascination as Apolline kept encouraging her daughter in French. Fleur seemed to feel comforted with her mother by her side and as a result, the labour was over shortly.

"Ah! I see the head!" cried the Healer happily.

"Une plus, Fleur. Une plus!"

"Argh!" screamed Fleur for the last time. The Healer delved between her legs and returned with a newborn baby, covered in muck.

"It's a girl!" the Healer announced and Bill and Fleur gazed at each other in rapture. With a shaky breath, Fleur collapsed back against the pillows and closed her eyes wearily.

"You did it, love," said Bill proudly, kissing his exhausted wife tenderly. Their daughter, still in the Healer's arms, began to cry loudly and Bill immediately rushed to her side.

"Is she alright?" he demanded.

The Healer merely chuckled. "She's healthy alright," he assured him. "Got a good set of lungs on her, this one. You've got nothing to worry about."

Bill beamed at Fleur.

"Ma fille! Ma petite!" Fleur rasped from the bed, sitting up and reaching for her daughter.

"Just a minute," said the Healer, "let us clean her up and then you can hold her."

Fleur pouted at this and beckoned for Bill to sit beside her. He hugged her slim body, covered in sweat and brushed her wet hair from her sticky forehead. She leaned into his side wearily.

"You were amazing, Fleur," he told her, his face aglow with admiration.

"Zank you, mon cheri."

"A granddaughter!" cried Mrs Delacour proudly. "I am going to be a grandmuzzer!"

The Healer soon returned, followed by the entire Weasley family. Fleur eagerly reached for her daughter and gently cradled her in her arms. She was tiny and so pale, with wisps of honey blonde hair. The baby nuzzled into Fleur's breast and opened her sapphire eyes, blinking up at Fleur.

"She is parfait!" Fleur exclaimed tearfully, stroking her daughter's pale cheek. The baby mewled at the sound of her mother's voice and her tiny mouth formed an 'o'.

"She looks like you," Bill said softy, his voice filled with emotion as he regarded his daughter.

Mrs Weasley approached Bill and put her arms around him. "She's got a bit of Weasley in her too," she said through happy sobs. "Look at her freckles."

Sure enough, a small cluster of light-coloured freckles decorated the baby's tiny nose. Fleur grinned up at her mother-in-law.

"May I 'old my granddaughter?" asked Mrs Delacour thickly, wiping tears from her eyes. Fleur lifted her arms and handed the child to her mother, who stroked her cheek gently and rocked her back and forth. One by one, family members congratulated the new parents on their wonderful achievement.

"What a lovely thing to happen on such a grim day," exclaimed Mrs Weasley when it was her turn to hold her granddaughter. "Fred wouldn't have wanted it any other way."

Mr Weasley approached his wife and gazed tenderly at his tiny granddaughter. "It just shows that we are victorious over death."

There was a hum of agreement and soon the Healer asked the visitors to leave in order for Fleur to rest.

Now alone, Bill lay next to Fleur and kissed his daughter's forehead softly.

"Look at what we made," he whispered in amazement. "Words cannot describe her."

"We still 'ave to name her, Guillaume."

Bill smiled and kissed Fleur's cheek. "Do you have any ideas?"

The baby sniffed and closed her eyes, nuzzling against Fleur and keeping a tight grip on her finger.

"Victoire," Fleur said after a pause. "Because we 'ave been victorious."

"Beautiful," Bill whispered as he kissed Fleur's temple.

* * *

**Well, apart from my horrible description of Fleur's labour, that turned out well in the end! I wanted Victoire to have a grand entrance into the world because she's just that kind of girl! THE NEXT GENERATION STARTS NOW! :D Please read and review! xx**


	15. May 25 1999

__**Hello fellow readers! I have not updated this story in a while, as I have been busy with settling into my first semester of university and working on some of my other stories. But, I realized how much I missed Bill and Fleur, so I decided to write the next little chapter. Please enjoy xx**

* * *

_25 May 1999_

A high pitched, piercing cry broke through the slumbering silence of shell cottage. Upstairs in the master bedroom, Fleur stirred; the cries of her new born daughter rousing her from her sleep. She groggily sat up and rubbed her eyes. Bill was snoring beside her, completely oblivious of his daughter's cries. Fleur frowned at him. How could he not be awake like she was? Victoire continued to cry and Fleur quickly approached the cot and gazed down at her daughter with sleepy eyes. Her nose was scrunched and her mouth wide open as tears streamed down her cheeks. Fleur picked up her squealing daughter and rubbed her back gently.

"Shh, ma petite," she cooed softly, stroking Victoire's thin, blonde hair. She took her over to the rocking chair beside the cot and cradled her to her chest. Victoire nuzzled against Fleur's breast and sucked hungrily, drowning out her cries. Her eyes were closed in contentment as he greedily sucked at Fleur's breast, a little fist tightly wrapped around one of her mother's pale, slender fingers.

Fleur gazed tenderly down at her daughter. It was hard to believe that Victoire was already almost three weeks old. The time had flown by so quickly. Yet Fleur couldn't wait for the day when she would get a good night's sleep. Victoire had a habit of waking up every three or so hours during the night, and, as she was still breastfeeding, Fleur was the only one who could go to her.

Finally, Victoire turned her head away and gave a loud burp. Fleur patted her back, cooing to her gently and rocking her back and forth. She had never known how much she would enjoy motherhood. As a child, she had, as most girls often did, dreamed about having a family of her own. Of marrying a handsome prince and living in a beautiful house, where dozens of little blonde headed children would frolic around the garden playfully. And Fleur couldn't help but smile as she realised her dream had become a reality. Her deep blue eyes fell on the sleeping figure of her husband, sprawled over the bed in a haphazard manner, with his long limbs hanging off the end of the bed. Her heart swelled with love; she had found her prince and now she had a beautiful daughter to match.

Fleur pressed her lips gently to Victoire's soft hair, enjoying the feeling of the tiny, warm bundle pressed against her chest. They stayed like that for a few moments, until Victoire gave a rather large yawn and her blue eyes fluttered closed. With a smile, Fleur sat up from the chair and carried her sleeping daughter over to her cot.

"Bon nuit, ma petite," she whispered, kissing her little daughter's forehead. Victoire was already asleep by the time Fleur had placed her down amongst the blankets. Fleur regarded her tenderly for a few moments, before slipping back into bed beside Bill. As she rolled onto her side, she felt his arms encircle her waist and his warm breath against her neck.

"Guillaume…" she muttered groggily.

He kissed her neck sweetly and pulled her closer to him. She shuffled against his back, enjoying the warmth and comfort he brought her.

"How is our little angel?" he asked. Fleur beamed at the affection in his voice.

"Parfait, as usual," she said simply.

"I wish I could be more of a help," he said sadly. Fleur knew it pained him that he could do nothing for his daughter's cries, except wake Fleur. She reached for his hand and brought it to her lips, kissing each knuckle gently.

"You are a great 'elp, Guillaume," she assured him. "You look after me."

"I know," he muttered quietly and Fleur turned her head to look into his blue eyes. "It's just, I feel so useless. I hear her cries but I can't do anything to help her. I want to be able to attend to her every need."

Fleur rolled over in his arms and pressed her body flush against his chest. She stroked his strong jaw lovingly and kissed his lips.

"You will later," she told him. "But for now, I'm perfectly 'appy for you to attend to _my_ every need..." her voice trailed off as she raised her fair eyebrows at him. The mischievous glint in her sapphire eyes made Bill smirk and he kissed her fiercely, pressing his hands into the small of her back.

"I'd be happy to, my love."

* * *

**Please read and review! I can't wait to write about Victoire as she grows up! xx**


End file.
